


Some Fresh Air

by GinAndCats



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Mentions of Lily - Freeform, mentions of greg - Freeform, mentions of herschal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 15:17:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13684311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GinAndCats/pseuds/GinAndCats
Summary: Set right after episode 68Sammy goes outside for some fresh air (and to break down) and ends up lost in the woods. Ben finds him and they have a heart to heart.





	Some Fresh Air

**Author's Note:**

> might add another chapter to this, haven't decided yet
> 
> thanks for reading ^O^

His knuckles were bleeding, speckled red lines traced the length of his fingers and the promise of bruises bloomed like flowers on the back of his hands. He hadn’t noticed it before, and even now he could barely feel the pain, because physical pain was nothing compared to the agony of talking about Jack. 

He had run away again, he’d left the studio and left Ben, his brother. The air was cool enough to chill the sweat on his skin, but no amount of fresh air seemed to be able to fill his lungs. He stood in the parking lot, heaving breaths in vain- drowning in his own sorrow unable to do anything but choke. He brought his hands closer to his face to inspect them, they looked bad but he knew they could be worse. He wanted, no, needed them to hurt more. Anything to distract his mind. 

He turned toward the station building, and old piece made of bricks and cement. He first threw a punch with his left arm, letting out a pathetic grunt as it made contact. But it was sloppy, he couldn’t get the right angle with his non dominant hand. Next he punched with his right- when his hand connected with the wall he felt it all the way to his shoulder. That’s good, he thought, that’s what I deserve. He gritted his teeth and went in for another one. This time he hit directly on his middle finger’s knuckle, the pain was hot white. He knees went weak and he fell to the ground in a moment of agony.

He wasn’t done though; he ripped off the sleeve of his button up with his good hand, taking a few tries to break the seam. He rolled up the piece of cloth and shoved it in his mouth, to have something to stop him from screaming. With this he bit down and wound up another blow, making sure to hit in the same agonizing place as last time. He was glad for his makeshift gag, his jaw was clenched so tight he felt his teeth would’ve shattered without it. At this point he was breathing heavily, and there were marks of blood where he had hit the wall. Warm liquid trickled down his hand into a small puddle on the ground, but he didn’t make a single move to stop the flow of blood. 

He hit the wall until he couldn’t anymore, each hit sending him toppling to the ground in harrowing pain. But still, he got up each time and hit again. He hit until it didn’t hurt anymore, until his hand felt like it’d been numbed and set on fire simultaneously. He hit until he felt something break. 

After the last hit he stayed on the ground for a while, spitting out the gag and panting for air. He looked at his hand again, feeling a sick satisfaction that at least the outside matched how the inside felt. It was dark, but the soft street lights illuminated and reflected off his blood soaked hand like the summer sun off a river. He could see something white, but whether it was a tendon or just straight bone he didn’t know. He knew that one or two of his fingers definitely weren’t supposed to bend like that, but he didn’t care. It’s not like he could even feel it. 

He felt pathetic; he wasn’t a kid anymore, he knew throwing a tantrum like this was childish. But he was hurting so much that he wasn’t thinking straight. He thought about Jack, and what he’d say if he saw him like this. He’d probably give him that look, that sad expression he’d get whenever he saw you indulge in your own self loathing. He’d look at you like he was begging you to ask for help, to just reach out and rely on him. If he were here now you’d reach out in a heartbeat, after tonight, well, after these three years you’d gone past the point of pride. If Jack were here…

No, but he’s not here, is he? And whose fault was that? Who didn’t believe him until it was too late. Who was too much of a coward and a failure to bring him back? He felt tears run down his face and realized he was crying, or maybe he’d been crying the whole time. He didn’t know. It was hard to know anything, to be sure of anything, without Jack by his side. In a way sometimes he felt close to Jack, they were both lost. They were both lost and they were both without each other. 

He took another look at his hand. Jack would’ve hated knowing he’d done that to himself. He kicked himself, he can’t even greive right. Picking up the ripped sleeve he wrapped his hand tightly, not really expecting it to do the broken hand any good, but at least it made it look like he made an effort. That was all he was good for anyway, just looking like he was doing something useful. He had no follow through, when things got too hard or too painful he quit. 

He stood back up and figured he should’ve walked farther than the back side of the station to have his little meltdown. If Ben hadn’t already he’d probably be out soon looking for him. Trying to convince him to stay. Sammy couldn’t face that right now; he’d already made his decision. 

So he picked a direction and started walking. He knew he could just get in his car and go home, but the idea of going back to a house that didn’t have Jack in it right now was terrifying. And he hadn’t liked cars since the day Jack disappeared. That was one good thing about King Falls, it was small, he could walk most places, he didn’t have to relive that morning every time he heard the soft hum of a running car that often. 

After a few minutes of walking he started to feel like he could breathe again, the throbbing persistent ache in his chest didn’t subside though. But the crisp February air was healing, cold enough to bite, but not so cold you go numb altogether. He had finally talked about it, after all this time, he told Ben about Jack. But he didn’t have a say in the matter, he didn’t do it by choice. He did it because he was backed into a corner by Lily, and outed by Greg. He hadn’t worried that Ben would care he was in love with a man, he knew Ben would accept that. He was scared that Ben would come to see him as he really was: a fraud, a liar, a coward. 

 

But Ben kept saying that he wanted you to stay, he kept saying nice things, things you don’t deserve to hear. He doesn’t get it, you couldn’t even tell him the whole story, the whole, horrible story, because you were a coward. You aren’t a good person, you know that. Good people move heaven and earth to save the person they love. You could barely say his name without breaking down. Jack was a good person; Jack would’ve brought you back. 

Ben could never understand, because he’s not like you, he has fight and purpose. You could follow Jack to King Falls but then what? What have you done to bring him home, to bring him back to your arms where he belongs? Ben brought his Jack home, he lost and found Emily in what seems like less time than it took for you to find your way to King Falls. Ben is the only thing you have, but you don’t deserve him. He doesn’t need you dragging him down because that’s what you do, you ruin things. 

The adrenaline was beginning to wear off and he could now feel his heartbeat pulsating under the skin of his injured hand. It was something he could focus on, the soft one-two one-two of his body’s rhythm lulling him into an almost meditative state. He didn’t know where he was walking, down the side of some empty one way road. He spotted a trail leading into the woods, some old hiking point he’d probably passed a dozen times but never really registered that it was there. Because he wasn’t dumb enough to willingly enter King Falls’ woods. But tonight he was feeling unusually stupid.

The trail wasn’t well cleared out, like it hadn’t been used in recent years, probably for good reason. He had to use his phone as a light after he left the safety of the street lamps. When he had walked what only felt about ten of fifteen feet down the path he turned around and could no longer see the road he had come from. Maybe on another night he’d be freaked out, but he doubted that there was anything in these woods that could distract him from Jack. 

He continued walking, knowing for certain it was a bad idea, but he figured worst comes to worst he stays in the woods until the morning and finds his way back then. He occasionally heard a branch break somewhere near him, and he’d be lying if the said there wasn’t some part of him that hoped against all odds it was Jack. But being in the woods reminds him that Jack was right. He was right about King Falls and all the weird happenings surrounding it. Though he was still skeptical of a lot there were certain things he knew were real, like Debby. If only he had believed Jack, if only he had tried to understand him more rather than trying to pawn him off on some psychologist for “professional help”. 

If only it had taken him.

Jack didn’t deserve to be the one lost, Sammy was the useless one, he was the coward, the one less people would miss. But even that’s a selfish thought, he knew that Jack would be just as heartbroken as he was. He just didn’t want to feel the pain, he didn’t want to feel it alone. He should be the one lost in the void with Debby. He wishes he was the one lost. 

He walked for a bit longer down the path until he got tired and sat down on a fallen tree. He checked his phone’s battery, which was rapidly draining, and checked if he got service. He didn’t, which was what he expected. He cradled his face in his hands, and began crying all over again. Now the whole town is going to know. A few weeks ago only he, Jack, and Lily knew. Now everyone knows, they’re going to talk about you when they pass you in town. They’re going to pity you. They’re going to look at you like Lily looked at you and you’re going to break under the weight of their glances. 

He wanted Jack to be there. He wanted Jack to hold his hands and be his rock, like he always was. He just wants to see him again, just so he can tell him he loves him. He didn’t get to kiss him that morning. He didn’t get to wake up next to him and feel his unshaved face against him. He didn’t get to look into his eyes and tell him all the things he needed to say. He didn’t get to kiss him. He didn’t even get to say goodbye. 

And he was going to run again. He was going to leave Ben before Ben could leave him. He didn’t think he could ever take losing Ben, so if he leaves on his own accord he never has to go through that. He’ll be fine without him, hell, he’ll thrive without him. It’ll hurt for a bit, sure, but it’s better than the alternative. 

He couldn’t sit like this, if he sat his mind would wander, and it always wanders back to Jack. He got up a bit too quickly and took some awkward steadying steps. But without his light on he couldn’t see where he was stepping, and also couldn’t see the sharp decline he was standing right over. One misstep sent him tumbling down the rocky hill, he both heard and felt a crack, for the second time that night.

“FUCK!” with no time to prepare himself he felt the brunt of the intense pain that comes with breaking a major bone. And what’s worse is that the leg in question happened to get lodged underneath a boulder, or log, he couldn’t see. Each time he moved it his whole body convulsed with pain, nearly causing him to pass out- he was going to have to stay here. So much for his ‘find his way back in the morning’ plan. It did feel like karma though, that he get lost and badly injured in the woods. For a brief moment he felt okay with it, felt and acceptance that a bear would come a long and eat him. But he knew Jack would hate that. 

“FUCK!” So he continued to yell, not in any hope that people would hear him, just to the universe could. So that somehow the world would know he wasn’t giving up, not here at least. “GOD FUCKING DAMMIT! SHIT!”

He yelled for what seemed like hours; every obscenity he could think of. He let himself feel the pain in his leg, and the pain in his hand, and most importantly the pain in his heart and he poured it all into his guttural screaming. He voice became hoarse but he still persisted, tears filled his eyes and every part of him was aflame with physical anguish, the kind of torture that only losing a loved one can provide. 

After a while he saw a flash light. Jack, was his first thought. But he knew it wasn’t Jack. Sammy went quiet as he watched the tall figure slowly approach. The light shone directly in his eyes so he had to avert his gaze. 

“Sammy?” once the figure was close enough it spoke in a familiar voice, “Sammy is that you?” Sammy looked up to see none other than Troy Kreighauser, and instantly had the thought that he would’ve preferred the bear. 

“Uh, yeah. Hey Troy, great night for a walk, huh?” he tried to sound confident, he tried to fake it like he normally does but after a night of crying and screaming his voice came out rough and weak. Troy continued to get closer to him, approaching him slowly, like he was some injured animal. When Sammy got a good look at his face his heart broke. Troy looked unsure and cautious, like if he did the wrong thing Sammy would break. He knew that Troy must already know, everyone must. 

“What’re you doing out here, Sammy?” he kept repeating his name, calmly. Like a parent would for a hurt child. He gently prodded Sammy’s trapped leg, earning him an involuntary flinch from the trapped man. “I got a call from Herschel Baumgartner that he saw Sammy Stevens yelling obscenities in the woods when he and Cecil went out to check their traps.”

“Who checks their traps at 3 AM?” He tries to change the subject but Troy keeps going steady, with his calm voice and gentle hands, looking him over for injuries. 

“I asked if they had called into you boys about it, because there was no way the Sammy I knew was makin’ a ruckus in the forest, but then I found out y’all’ve been dark for the past few hours. I’d been busy so I wasn’t listening close tonight, sorry.” As if he has to apologize for that. He can feel the other man waiting for you to say something, anything. But he couldn’t look him in the eye, he felt so ashamed and embarrassed that if he’d had anything in his stomach he’d puke it out. “So I called Ben and asked if he knew where you were.”

“Ugghh,” He lets out a groan the second he hears Ben’s name, that’s the one thing he doesn’t have the energy to face right now.

“Ben got real panicked when I told him what was going on. He’s on his way here now so hopefully you can calm him down some.” That was like an arrow through the heart, he hadn’t wanted to hurt Ben or cause him any trouble. But maybe he really does ruin everything he touches. But he knows for sure he doesn’t want to see Ben right now.

“No! No, that’s not necessary. Tell Ben to go home and get some rest. Me? I’m fine! Just give me a few minutes and I’ll walk this off.” He tries to fake a laugh as he attempts to free his leg from the boulder, but the shock of pain turns it into an anguished cry. 

“Hey, hey! Don’t try to move like that, you’ll make it worse.” He’s contemplative for a second, “Now I don’t know what you and Ben fought about, but I do know the first rule of friendship is communication. If you don’t want to talk to me I get it, but at least give him a shot.”

There was nothing he could say back to that. Troy was a good person, and he did good person things like not running away from painful conversations. For the time being he didn’t push Sammy anymore, just helped free his leg in the least painful way possible. Which still contained a lot of pain. Even with the leg freed Sammy couldn’t walk, and would probably have to be carried out of the woods. Troy was strong, but Sammy was big. It’d probably take two people, and Sammy was dreading who the second would be. 

Sure enough he eventually saw another, this one more rapidly approaching, light in the dark. And then there he was: Ben Arnold. His best friend, his brother. 

“Sammy! Wh-What the fuck? You look like the wolfman mid-transformation! What happened to your shirt, how is there so much blood? There’s so much blood.” He doesn’t respond to his worried yelling, he can’t, he doesn’t deserve to. Instead he just looks down at his mangled hands in shame. He hears Ben take a deep breath and turn to Troy, “I’m sorry Troy, but could you give us some time alone?”

“I don’t know,” Troy sounds unsure, probably worried about your wounds. “He’s pretty beat up-

“I have a med kit with me here and I passed my first-aid certification at the library with flying colors. I’ll do what I can here, and we’ll bring him in later. Please, I really need to talk to him.” He doesn’t have the energy to argue this, and gives Troy a solemn nod when he glances over.

“Okay, but I’ll be back in half an hour on the dot- those injuries are serious.” At first Ben doesn’t say anything, he just sits next to him and begins carefully taking things out of the med kit. He starts by cleaning the blood off, the wounds look much less serious now that you don’t look like Carrie on prom night. 

“Where should I start, what hurts the most?” The air between you two is stagnant. You can tell he has so many things he wants to say, but for some reason right now he just isn’t. 

“None of it hurts, I’m fine.” He feels a sharp sting on his face for a second, and then realizes that Ben had just slapped him. It’s much less than he deserves, but it still shocks him. For the first time Sammy looks up to see Ben’s face- he’s crying. He looks so angry, and desperate. It tugs at you, and burns, that you made him look like this. 

“Stop trying to shoulder all of this yourself. It’s okay to tell me when things hurt! Do you know how goddamn useless I feel knowing that my best friend was suffering all this time and I couldn’t do a fucking thing to help him?” You shake your head, no, no. It’s not your fault, he thinks, I didn’t want to burden you with my bullshit. “Do you know how fucking scared I was when you left the station, but your car was still there? And now I find you here, in the woods, looking like you got hit my a train?! What happened?”

“I fell.” You can’t manage more words than that. You want, no, need this conversation to end. You can’t even run away from it on account of the broken leg. 

“Bull. Shit. Stevens. Do you honestly think I’d believe you got this,” he grabs your wrapped hand, eliciting a surprised groan from you, “From falling down a hill? Why are you trying to run away from me, you say I’m the only thing you have, then let me be. I want to help you because you’re my friend. Do you honestly think I could’ve done even a fraction of the things I’ve done without you? Don’t fucking idolize me, we all have flaws, you don’t get to decide that you’re worthless.”

Sammy is quiet as he lets Ben catch his breath. He knows he’s using his low self-esteem as an excuse to run away, but it doesn’t make it any less painful to hear coming from Ben. 

“I know you’re hurting, and you say you want to give up, because you’re not like me. And you’re right, you’re not like me, but just because you’re different doesn’t mean you’re not a good person. You’re the strongest guy I know, I depend on you so much for your level head and ability to keep going. You say all you do is run but I don’t see that, I think you’re scared right now, yeah. But you’ve never abandoned me when I needed you most, and I need you now. So if you won’t stay for you, stay for me. Let me be selfish, and let me keep you, even if you hate it. I won’t let you give up on Jack.” Ben had his hands on Sammy’s shoulders, forcing him to look him in the eye. Sammy could feel his heart twisting under Ben’s selfish request. It was a dirty tactic, and it made him feel sick. But having Ben just inches from his face, begging him to stay with that damned crazy desperate look in his eyes, he couldn’t say no. Ben was looking at him like he would look at the sky when Emily was gone, confident and weak and determined and frantic. Ben had moved heaven and earth to get Emily back, and he could tell that Ben was prepared to move heaven and earth to get Sammy to stay.

“That’s not fair…” He finally broke his gaze away, trying to regain his resolve to leave, even though Ben had just smashed it to bits. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ben smile, like he knew he had him.

“I don’t intend on being fair.” Sammy just nods to a relieved Ben, but he knew deep down that he might have agreed to stay for a little while, but he knew he’d end up running away again. “You’re hands though dude, what happened to your hands?” 

“Fist fight with a brick wall?” Ben rubbed his temples

“Was smashing our equipment in not enough for you?” He can tell he means it as a joke, but he does feel bad about breaking the equipment, so it stings. 

“I think it’s broken.”

“Yeah, and legs aren’t supposed to bend that way, you’re in bad shape, man.” He lightly punches Sammy’s shoulder, “Now you can’t quit your job because you’ll be drowning in medical bills.”

Sammy must’ve had one pained expression on because Ben immediately backs down from this, scratching the back of his neck. They’re quiet for a moment, but the silence isn’t as awkward as before.

“I need you here.” Ben declares, and not for the first time Sammy really wishes he were Jack. He wishes everyone were Jack, the gas station attendee, his nosy neighbors, Emily. He wishes the trees and the stars and the clouds were Jack. Anyone, he’d trade anyone for him. Except maybe not Ben, he thought guiltily, though he wasn’t sure who he was guilty towards. So Sammy just nods, at Ben who is not and never will be Jack. Ben checks his phone “Emily wants to come see you, she said she’ll be here soon.” 

“No,” Ben looks surprised, “I can’t see her right now, I, I just need some time away from her. And I sound like a fucking jerk right now but-”

“Sammy” Ben tries to interrupt.

“I don’t want to see her for a while. It- it hurts.. Too much sometimes. And I love her, you know I love Emily-”

“Sammy you don’t have to explain yourself. I get it.” He hesitates before saying, “Because she came back.” 

Sammy cries, and looks up towards the stars, feeling truly like a piece of shit, for resenting the fact that Emily came back and Jack didn’t. “I wish she were Jack.” he whispers, more to himself than anything, but he can see Ben flinch when he hears it. But he doesn’t get mad, he just leans over, and rubs Sammy’s back.

“I know you do. It’s okay. You don’t have to explain yourself.” they sit like that for a while, Sammy letting himself get consoled by Ben. 

“How much time do we have left?” Sammy asks.

“I already told Troy to give us another half hour, thought you’d want to calm down.” Ben was too good, too good.

“Will you stay with me?” It was a dumb question, but one he desperately needed to hear the answer to. 

“Of course!” His heart settled at that, and he made a tough decision.

“I want to talk.” He felt nervous, but still sure that this is what he wanted.

“About what?”

“Jack.”


End file.
